


The Rocket's Red Glare

by as_with_a_sunbeam



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 1782, Albany - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fireworks, Independence Day - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/as_with_a_sunbeam/pseuds/as_with_a_sunbeam
Summary: Eliza and Alexander spend the first Independence Day after the Battle of Yorktown at the Pastures. The day is filled with dancing, games, and celebration, capped off with a spectacular fireworks display. Alexander struggles with the last item.





	The Rocket's Red Glare

Torches burned bright around the circle of festivities at the Schuyler estate. Laughter and chatter threatened to drown out the jaunty tune from the fiddle, which provided music for the dancing couples. Eliza stood slightly away from the crowd, a ring for the game of Quoits she was playing held loosely in her hand. She smiled at her husband, his profile sharp and handsome in the firelight as he laughed at something her father had said.

“Eliza!” Rensselaer jumped up in front of her, waving his hand to get her attention. “I said, it’s your turn.”

She blinked. “Oh. Sorry.”

Rensselaer’s ring had landed a mere inch from the stake jutting out the grass, she noted. Eyeing the distance, she tossed the metal ring, and was gratified to see it sail through the air straight and true before wrapping itself perfectly around the stake. Rensselaer and Philip Jeremiah both groaned.

“We win!” Cornelia crowed behind her, dancing in place as her voice turned sing-song. “We win, we win, we win.”

Rensselaer pouted momentarily, before challenging, “Two out of three.”

“Bested again, gentlemen?” Alexander had broken away from the crowd, and she felt his arms wrap around her waist as he surveyed the aftermath of the game.

“She keeps tossing ringers,” Philip Jeremiah complained as he stooped down to collect the rings from around the stake.

“Impressive aim. You’d have made an able marksmen, my love,” Alexander praised, his lips ghosting over her temple.

“Will you play, Hamilton?” Rensselaer asked. “I bet together we could beat Eliza.”

“Doubtful,” Eliza said, nudging her elbow back into her husband’s ribs playfully.

“Was that a challenge, Mrs. Hamilton?” Alexander asked. He pulled back slightly to catch her eye. His lips were quirked in amusement, creating little dimples in his cheeks.

“I do believe it was, Mr. Hamilton,” she said, grinning.

Alexander kissed her, prompting a swift sound of disgust from her younger brothers.

“Yuck,” Rensselaer said. 

Alexander laughed. “Well, I will happily rise to that challenge. But it will have to be later. General Schuyler says the fireworks are due to start any moment.”

Rensselaer whooped with delight and ran full tilt towards the festivities, intent on finding the best spot to watch the show. Philip Jeremiah and Cornelia weren’t far behind him. The three siblings elbowed their way into the throng and quickly disappearing out of sight.

“Shall we join them?” Alexander asked. His hands still lingered at her waist, his fingers tickling tantalizingly just below her ribs. 

She looked up at him, considering. He’d been so engrossed in his legal studies for the past months, they hardly ever saw each other. Seeing him free of her father’s library, with no great dusty tome consuming his attention, felt a great treat. She didn’t want to squander it by sharing him with all those people.

“I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

She twirled around him until she faced his back and latched her arms around his shoulders. Picking up on her intent, he stooped over and reached down to capture her legs, hoisting her up into a piggyback. Laughing, she held her arm out straight so he could see and demanded, “That way.”

As Alexander rushed them towards the surrounding woods, she chanced a glance back at the party. Her mother was watching them. Kitty shook her head slightly, but smiled and waved at her. She waved back, then tightened her hold on her husband as they disappeared into the trees.

The torchlight faded quickly, leaving only the moon to light the well-trodden path. Fireflies winked around them, the music and laughter of the party muted. “Straight ahead,” she directed. “Here.”

They stopped before the massive old oak tree upon which her father had built a tree fort in her early childhood. A knotted rope dangled from the platform above, and Eliza mounted it, scurrying up with well-practiced ease. The rope tightened and swayed beneath her as Alexander began his ascent. She stepped off onto the platform and watched him pull himself up the rest of the way to meet her.

“We’ll be able to see the fireworks through the trees here,” Eliza said, pointing towards the drop off where the Schuyler property met the North River. “They shoot them off from the other side of the river.”

“A private showing. How charming,” Alexander said as he followed her onto the platform. She leaned against the sturdy wooden railing, and he came to stand behind her, his hands gripping the rail beside hers. “You know, Rensselaer brought me up here a few weeks ago during a game of pirates.”

She smiled, picturing the scene. “You’re adorable.”

She meant to kiss him, but just as she turned, a sharp whistle cut through the air, signaling the first of the fireworks. Alexander tensed violently at the sound. His arms tightened around her, as though bracing her against some sort of impact. When the firework exploded into dazzling light over them, she saw him flinch, his face pale in the white burst of light. His breathing sounded ragged, fearful.

“Sweetheart?”

He swallowed. Two more fireworks shot up into the air simultaneously above them. She heard him take a long, deliberate breath through his nose. “I’m all right.”

He didn’t seem all right.

While the display continued, he kept his eyes closed and his breathing measured. His hold on her eased somewhat, but she didn’t attempt to pull away, instead turning in his arms to embrace him properly. The noise increased as more fireworks shot over them in rapid succession, turning the dark sky bright with streaming color. Oo’s and ah’s floated faintly through the trees along with enthusiastic clapping.

Then, finally, blessed silence.

She nestled her head on his shoulder and rubbed his back. “All over,” she said. She felt him nod. The tension in his muscles released somewhat, but he still seemed shaken and far away.

“I’m sorry,” he said after some time.

“Don’t be,” she said. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“I haven’t seen a fireworks display since…I didn’t realize how much they sounded like….” He trailed off, struggling to find words. “We used to send up rockets to signal an attack. The whistle, the bright red streak in the sky, it was the last I heard and saw before…Yorktown.”

They’d spent the day feasting and celebrating the holiday with gusto this year, the first since the defeat of Cornwallis’ forces at Yorktown. Though the war was technically not yet over, her father’s voice had quavered as he’d read the Declaration of Independence aloud, the words holding new and special meaning now that their freedom from British rule was all but assured. The cost of that Independence had been steep, though, and she knew the war lingered in her husband’s mind, waking him at night from time to time with a rough, choked off shout.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. She wasn’t surprised; he never wanted to talk after his nightmares, either. Rubbing his back once more, she left him to his thoughts.

The fiddle started up again in the distance, another lively tune to inspire dancing and a jocular atmosphere. His arms tightened around her, and she felt him start swaying gently, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Dancing, she recognized after a moment. She smiled against him, swaying her weight along with the music.

“Are you ready to rejoin the festivities?” he asked when the song came to an end.

She looked up at him, squinting in the dark to make out his face. “Are you?”

“I think so. I was just a little rattled, that’s all. The memories….” He seemed to shake the thoughts away, forcing good humor into his voice. “I’d like to dance with you properly before I best you at Quoits.”

“You wish,” she teased, trying to bury her concern. If he wanted to lose himself in the general merrymaking to keep the memories of war at bay, she would do her best to help him.

He hugged her close another moment before releasing her. Before she could lower herself onto the platform to climb down the rope, though, he caught her by the hand.

“What is it, honey?”

“Just…thank you. My perfect, darling wife.”

She felt her face grow warm at the love in his voice. “You’re very welcome, my wonderful, darling husband.”

The soft chuckle he gave was, perhaps, the sweetest sound in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Rockets were used as a signal for attacks during the Revolution, so I can easily imagine Hamilton having very negative memories associated with the sight and sound of fireworks, especially less than a year after leaving the army. I've hinted at this in other stories, but I wanted to write Eliza's first experience seeing Hamilton go through this. 
> 
> Hope everyone has a happy and safe Fourth of July! Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always heartily appreciated! :)


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